Distance
by theshadowswhisper
Summary: What if the one you wanted was two different people? written for soxx. Liley


_AU: Wrote this for soxx. Hope it makes her as happy as her fics make me. _

_Hannah Montana is a brand-name borrowed so that my story fits within the proffered guidelines of this site._

Lilly honestly didn't know what to do with herself. On the one hand, she was desperately bored. Her hands fidgeted restlessly at her sides while her brain buzzed with half activity. On the other hand, however, she was tired. Completely tired, in fact— the very idea of dragging herself up and off her bed was hardly considerable. Miley seemed content to do nothing as well, laying flat on her stomach humming lazily to music on her headset. The first arrival of Malibu hot weather had left everyone exhausted, but Lilly felt a strange endowment of energy as well, causing her to puzzle over her next actions (or non-actions).

So she settled on examining her friend. Miley looked serene and concentrated, faded out of the world while immersed in her music. It made Lilly feel strangely alone.

Miley's feet swung back and forth, purple-painted toes wiggling thoughtless with the movements. It was striking how rhythmically the Miley's body behaved, for even with her unintentional stirring, Lilly could practically feel the beat of whatever song Miley was currently listening to.

Rolling off the bed, a very bored Lilly finally decided to get a snack. Maybe Mr. Stewart had a gotten a head start on dinner.

Lilly's Diary: _July 13, 2009_

_I can only hope that the wound, which I cannot see, heals, for the pain has become unbearable. I do not know this monster that lurks deep within my chest, but for lack of proof there is only more pain. _

_I can no longer deny that I am dying._

Miley looked beautiful. Lilly knew it from the moment she felt the familiar weight of her friend's hand on the back of her shoulder. She could practically sense the confident shyness that Miley radiated, and knew without a doubt that the sight which awaited her would be stunning.

It was a Monday, and how Lilly hated Mondays! It meant a fresh beginning, the re-tearing of a freshly healed injury, the start of a long journey with the end nowhere in sight.

But Miley loved Mondays. She loved the reunion with friends and boys looking for a welcome distraction that the beginning of the week brought on. And to celebrate, she always looked especially radiant on Mondays.

And so Lilly and Miley complained honestly and good-naturedly, as was custom, about the impending sentence of the weekdays. Lilly was a good actress. She knew that things weren't as bad as they felt, while unleashing her dramatics would be particularly inappropriate in front of the one person on earth who might take her seriously might be a mistake.

Miley did tend to overreact.

And of course Oliver's swung arm that felt like a restraint around her shoulder was rewarded with a tight smile sugared with artificial sweetness. While the teacher's well-meaning lectures were ignored in the most respectful way possible.

It was easier to avoid their doubt and concern, which eked in and out of unsure existence, when deployed with the blunt sense of humor Lilly had developed as a defense. Easier still to fake happiness and hide everything (including herself) that spoke of the disillusioned reality. But Lilly felt that in her world of normality and friendship: no one would even believe her if she told them she was drowning.

Oliver was a good friend. And a good boyfriend. But his kisses felt as if they were meant to smother her as Lilly fought against the desire to turn away. Distraction was always welcome. Maybe this was why Miley has never drifted away from her two friends. Lilly's inclination towards company anchored her (Oliver was quite shy about displaying affection), and so Miley did not feel like an intruder. Oliver seemed happy with the arrangement, and to Lilly's relief, things didn't change too much. Change was tiring.

And so Life went on and Miley learned through experience what Lilly learned through observation. Like a view from a closed window, silence sometimes affords certain privacy.


End file.
